


Autumn Nights.

by 777AngelicDemon



Category: Ratchet & Clank
Genre: Anal Fingering, Drunken sex, Fisting, M/M, Masturbation, Not actual sex, Semi-Public Sex, The fuck if I know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-27
Updated: 2016-05-27
Packaged: 2018-07-10 15:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6990715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/777AngelicDemon/pseuds/777AngelicDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Autumn nights were perfect to spend with your arch nemesis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Autumn Nights.

Autumn nights.  


Ratchet liked to spend them either in the apartment with Clank, or off somewhere drinking. It was a vicious cycle, his emotions. He either felt like nothing could knock him down, or everything was going to ruin his life. It sucked. He hated the idea of Clank seeing him like this, gloomy and moping, snapping at everyone. When he got like this, he’d hop into his ship and fly to some planet where the beer was cheap and the people didn’t ask questions.

It was one of those nights.

* * *

The lombax pulled his hood up, his ears hidden and flat against his head, and jumps out of the parked ship, stuffing his hands into the hoodie’s pockets and making his way to the entrance of the dingy little bar. The door was ajar, and provided an insight to what lay within-

Drunk jerks laughing and flirting with the waitresses and bartenders. Angry criminals ranting about their problems. Weapons strewn about.

It was sort of a second home to the lombax, despite never coming to this specific bar before. Ratchet slips into the place unnoticed--no one would care about some short guy in a dark jacket--and takes an empty seat at the bar counter.

The bartender gave the hooded creature a suspicious look, wiping down the counter beside him. “What’ll it be?”

“Something strong.” Ratchet’s response was curt, and it conveyed the tone of “Leave Me Alone.” A shot glass filled with a questionable alcohol was slid over to him, and the bartender went to go take another patron’s order. The lombax’s nose picked up the scent, and he repressed the wave of disgust that came over him. A couple shots of this and he’d forget that he hated it.

He tilted his head back and let the liquid fire pour over his tongue and down his throat. He swallowed a few times until he was certain it was down, and shook his head, the flavor lingering on his tongue. Another bartender come to fill his shot back up.

“I want a glass.”

“This is strong shit, boy.”

“I want a glass of it.”

The bartender shakes his head, replacing the shot glass with a more sizable cup, filling that with the dark liquid and briefly wondering what could be troubling the guy so much.

Ratchet holds his glass close to himself, taking small sips and listening to all the noises around him. He heard talk of “shipments”, conversations of past lovers, plans for the “next big bust”. A part of him wondered if he should be worried, but with each drink he took, that small voice of reason became drowned out.

He finished the tall glass quicker than he thought he would, and silently requested another. Then another. The lombax was on his fifth when he realized eveything was fuzzier, slower, darker, His emerald eyes looked around, hidden tail twitching. He felt like-

“Pity seeing the hero of galaxies here…. Like this.”

A familiar voice pierced through the buzzing within his head, and Ratchet flinched, looking around quickly to find the source. To his left, the same old bar. To his right, Dr. Nefarious, holding a glass of his own filled with some black liquid. The robot was smirking, and Ratchet suddenly wished he was sober.

“The fuck you want?” His own voice was weak, slurred, revealing how defenseless he was like this. He vaguely remembered leaving his communicator in the ship.

“What do I want? I’m simply enjoying a drink in a bar where no one knows me. Same as you, squishy.” Nefarious takes a big gulp on the liquid. Ratchet watches with interest, watches as a stray drops rolls down the villain’s cheek, down his neck. Heat spreads over the lombax’s cheeks.

“Oh really…. Bet ya followed me-”

“Don’t flatter yourself, you rat.” Nefarious smirks when anger flashes on Ratchet’s face. The stupid organic looked so much better when he was angry.

“F-fuck off.” Ratchet turns his attention back to his drink, taking a bigger drink and flinching as the burning in his throat increases. Bad idea. He begins coughing, hitting his chest with a fist and wincing. He swears he feels a metal hand rubbing his back, and it’s eerily comforting. He manages to stop coughing, clearing his throat. A cup of water is set before him by the bartender, who is quick to leave them, and Ratchet drinks it down.

“Don’t choke, squishy. I’m supposed to be the one killing you….” The way he says it, in a low voice that’s dark with hatred… It sends chills through the lombax, and Ratchet looks up the robot, his eyes glazed over.

“When I die, it’ll be by my own hand.” His voice is dead serious, and he stares at Nefarious with a mixture of emotions. The robot doesn’t respond, rather he decides to act. One of his claws moves to run down Ratchet’s sides, down to rest on his leg and rub in slow, precise motions. The lombax’s breath hitches, and a stirring interest rises within his jeans.

Nefarious knows what he’s doing to the organic, and he doesn’t stop, smirking and watching as Ratchet’s drunken brain tries to decide what to do. Fight or flight? Enjoy it or be disgusted? He isn’t sure, but his body decides for him. He presses up into the touches, and Nefarious moves his hand to lie directly on the growing bulge.

A sharp gasp leaves Ratchet, and he bucks once before Nefarious comes to the conclusion that they should take this elsewhere. His hands leave Ratchet, whom whines gently, and he pulls out his wallet, tossing down enough money to pay for both of their drinks and taking the lombax by the arm. He’s quick to leave before anyone notices that he’s run off with the hooded figure.

* * *

Ratchet sits on a wooden chair in the lobby of some cheap motel. Nefarious went to rent a room for the night. The lombax is half-asleep, half-aroused, and is pretty sure that he’d fall if he tried to walk right now. He’s nodding off, hunched over to try and hide the erection he was sporting. Stupid Nefarious, with his stupid robot face and his stupid, perfect hands….

He feels his body lifted, and he wonders if he should be worried, but he assumes it's just the robot who was groping him minutes prior. Ratchet nuzzles against a cool metallic chest, and he yawns, opening an eye and confirming his suspicions. A question nags at the back of his mind.

“.....How we gonna do it?”

“Do what?”

“Fuck. I don’t think you were made with anything to use,” Ratchet states matter-of-factly. Nefarious suppresses the urge to hurl him down the stairs they were climbing. The annoying lombax may be attractive, but he’s irritating enough to dispose of.

“I wasn’t. But I have my ways, squishy.” They reached the door of the room, and Nefarious manages to unlock it with the lombax supported by one arm. He steps in and makes a sound of disgust. The room is plain enough, with a big bed that probably housed other one-night stands. There’s a set of glass doors that led out to a small balcony.

In Ratchet’s eyes, it was perfect for the deeds they planned. A surprised noise leaves him when he’s dumped onto the bed, and he tries to point out how rude that was, but his lips are captured in a kiss. He wonders if this really counts as a kiss, since the robot didn’t really have lips. The thought leaves him when Nefarious fully gropes him.

“N-Nef-” He falls back, legs spreading as Nefarious massages the length through the fabric. Ratchet whines, eyes closing and arching into the touches. He suddenly feels hot, too hot, and he claws at his hoodie, yanking it off and tossing it onto the floor. His shirt follows, and the robot it eager to rid him of his jeans. He’s left in his boxers, and Nefarious opts to just cut those off with his sharp claws. He’s soon met with a beautiful sight-

Squishies are disgusting. But Ratchet…. Ratchet is perfect. His fur, his big beautiful eyes, his large ears, his fluffy tail…. And now, Nefarious gets to see his handsome cock. It’s slick with arousal, and quite sizable; thick around the base and more thin near the tip. He’s never been this entranced by a squishy’s parts.

Ratchet watches Nefarious with curious eyes. Why was he just staring? Did he freeze up? He swallows, opening his mouth to speak, but the robot grips Ratchet’s length firmly, dragging a sharp cry from him. The lombax squirms, bucking lightly and whimpering.

“F-fuck…. Don’t tease me. Fuck me already!” Ratchet demands, claws digging into the bed. Nefarious rolls his eyes, biting back sarcastic remarks and insults. He pulls Ratchet close, retrieving something from his pocket. He pours the substance all over his fingers, coating them and watching as Ratchet tries to process what he’s doing.

Before the lombax can ask, a claw is pressing against his his entrance, and Ratchet tries to stay relaxed. Nefarious didn’t have organs like did. This was the only way they could have sex. This was the only way the unlikely pair would be able to do this. He takes a shaky breath, looking up and flushing when he and Nefarious lock eyes. The finger pushes inside, and despite the pain, Ratchet found himself pressing down further.

“Look at you, you whore. You probably love having things inside of you. Squishies are pathetic!” The words uttered by the robot send heat into his stomach, and Ratchet whimpers, nodding slightly.

“Y-yeah… I’m a whore…. Please fuck me… harder~” Ratchet panted, his hand moving down to start stroking at himself. Nefarious felt his gears move faster at the sight, and he growled, thrusting his finger in roughly and slipping a second one in.

“Beg, Ratchet.”

“Fuck me please, please, please~!” Ratchet’s eyes fluttered close, and immediately, a drunken fantasy was upon him. Nefarious leaning over him and pressing gentle kisses over his face. He’s wearing a strap-on toy, and it’s buried deep within him, the robot fucking him with vigor that differed from the affection. Ratchet begs for more, and Nefarious delivers, holding the lombax close and thrusting deep into him.

Ratchet is yanked from his fantasy when his tail is pulled, and he yelps, shuddering when the fingers brushed a special spot within him. His body is overloaded on different sensations, and he is desperately bucking down on the fingers.

Nefarious releases Ratchet’s tail, watching it twitch and flick. The robot chuckles darkly, and he starts to push in his thumb, watching the lombax’s reaction. It’s immediate--Ratchet arching up and crying out, hand moving quicker over his dick, body thrashing in pleasure. He was spasming around Nefarious’ hand as the hot feeling in his gut began to build up.

“G-gonna cum-” Ratchet choked out, and Nefarious felt excitement flood him. He pushed his thumb in all the way, grinning and gripping Ratchet’s hip before he harshly thrust his hand into the other, earning a screech.

The younger male was shrieking, the hand ramming into him and sending bolts of pleasure throughout him. It was over within seconds of the harsh treatment--his body tensing up and a loud scream leaving him as his other hand desperately gripped at the robot. His cock spurted ropes of cum all over his stomach and chest, his body shaking.

Finally, it was over, and he collapsed back onto the bed, twitching from the aftershocks, panting, and eyes closed. Nefarious waited until Ratchet was fully relaxed before slowly pulling out his hand, earning a weak whine of protest. He left the lombax’s side for a moment, washing his hand off and opening the glass doors to let some cold air in. He was far too overheated.

Ratchet shivered, blindly groping around for the blankets and whispering, “Cold….” Nefarious gave an irritated sigh, grabbing a washcloth soaking it with warm water. He cleaned the organic one off before covering him with blankets and laying beside him. He needed rest too, afterall.

The drunken lombax pressed his body against Nefarious, mumbling something that sent something into the robot’s chest. He simply grumbled in response, “Go to sleep…. Ratchet.”

Autumn nights were perfect to spend with your arch nemesis.


End file.
